


Connor Drabbles

by DarthSuki



Series: Detroit: Become Drabbles [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 06:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15333978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: A collection of drabbles featuring Connor and the reader, with everything being NSFW and gender/sex-neutral unless otherwise specified.





	1. Coming home to a Heat (Omegaverse)

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles were written with the amazing support of the followers on my Detroit: Become Human writing blog. If you would like to request stuff, toss ideas at me or whatnot, [you can check out the blog here!](https://detroitbecomehumanwritings.tumblr.com/)

> Anonymous: Just imagine Alpha Connor coming home to find his Omega SO in an unexpected heat, wrecked and begging for him. Ugh

Connor could smell it before he even walked into the door. He was in the process of unlocking it when the first breath hit his nose: the unmistakable scent of an omega in heat.

Though his nose (his whole respiratory system, really) was functionally useless for getting oxygen in his system, it still served a few fairly important tasks outside of that. Since he was programmed to exhibit alpha characteristics, of course, this meant that he was acutely aware of certain pheromones among other olfactory-aligned details around him. An omega in heat was a very, very important detail to him, especially when he caught the scent mere seconds from entering his apartment.

It took him several long moments to get his thoughts together, fumbling with the lock and opening the door at last.

A wave of thick, sickly-sweet omega pheromones hit his nose. It would have been nearly overwhelming to any human alpha, but Connor was no such thing; he wasn’t designed inherently in the same way most household androids were, equipped to handle a human’s rut or heat by default, but he certainly had enough to know there was an omega in his apartment that was in heat and wanted–no– _needed_  to be bred.

That omega just so happened to be you, of course, though Connor could have sworn you weren’t due for a heat for another week or two at the least. Coming home to the apartment thick with the aphrodisiac-like scent of you was more than enough to knock him off-kilter, mentally at least. Connor didn’t even bother to move through his after-work routine of removing his jacket and shoes, he simply hurried through the apartment in search of his omega–in search of  _you–_ so he could finally lock eyes and let you know he was there.

It didn’t take long. It wasn’t a mystery as to where you were, though Connor followed the trail of scent that led all the way to the bedroom. When he pushed open the door, he was neither surprised nor lacking a hot want with what he saw.

You were on the bed, naked as could be. the sheets looked half-tangled beneath you, as if you had been thrashing upon them for a time before you had decided to take care of yourself–and that you did, with your legs thrown open and a hand between them to pleasure yourself. Connor had a perfect view of it all from where he stood, watching as you fucked yourself on your fingers with deep, hard, quick thrusts, your inner thighs messy from the slick that still dripped from your aching entrance.

You looked absolutely  _beautiful_. 

“C-Connor?” 

The android’s eyes were pulled away from the view to catch your eyes with his when you realized of his presence in the room. Your eyes looked shiny, a little wet from the frustrations you no-doubt felt without him there to get you through the initial wave of your heat.

It only took a breath before he began to undress, all the while never breaking eye contact, his gaze hard and firm that it practically pressed you into the bed with it’s weight.

“I’m here now,” Connor said, being swift and efficient in getting himself as naked as you were. “I’ll be taking care of you now love, omega, my sweet omega.” 

He was barely containing the heat that hummed beneath his skin. Every inch of him wanted to pounce upon you like a predator, to have his dirty way with you like a beast–it was the programming hard at work after all, and Connor wasn’t bothering to smother it down. For once, he wanted to enjoy it, to encourage it, to swim in the delicious heat of his desire for you.

He stepped towards and climbed onto the bed without another word, sliding himself between your legs perfectly. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to your throat, not hesitating to let his teeth press into your soft, warm skin to leave the slightest mark of possession that would begin satiating your body’s need for an alpha.

As you wrapped your arms around his neck, his name on your lips, Connor moved so that his hips were rightly aligned with your own, the head of his cock pressing eagerly against your hot entrance.

He sheathed himself without issue. Your body took him in needily, slick and pliable and letting him open you up like a dream. Pleasure scorched through both of your bodies as he already began to thrust fast and hard.

And then, with a blink, not even noticed in the fervor of euphoria, Connor sent a text to Hank.

He wasn’t going to be in the office tomorrow for work.


	2. Voyeur (+ Hank Anderson)

> Anonymous: Hi! Could I request Hank X Reader with Connor being a voyeur, whether by accident or invitation? Thanks!

Connor hadn’t meant to catch the moment. He hadn’t meant to see such a sweet, intimate encounter between the two of you and-

No, that was a lie.

Connor wasn’t an idiot, and he certainly knew more than enough to recognize the sounds that had been coming from the bedroom. Even he couldn’t get by with the lie of ‘ _I thought you were hurt’_ when he knew full well the difference between pained groaning and pleasured sobbing. 

He knew what he was going to see, but yet Connor still slipped into the hallway, still carefully stepped to the door of Hank’s bedroom, still peered through the thin crack to see the scene just beyond.

He saw you bent over the foot of the bed, with Hank standing just behind you. His hands were pressed to your hips, pulling you against his body in even, powerful thrusts that Connor started to unwittingly count off.

_Even rhythm, steady heart rate, approximately 60-80 thrusts per minute._

Try as he might, Connor simply couldn’t get the quiet messages out of his thoughts, noting one detail after the other; the sweat beading on Hank’s skin, rolling down his back–the way you clutched the bedsheets between your fingers, the wide stance of your legs, enticing Hank to fuck you all the deeper.

Connor can hear every whisper, every muted growl that pours from Hank’s lips. He can see it all, but the one thing he’s missing out on is the sight of your face. You’re turned away from the door, after all, with your head gently tucked into the blanket simply to focus on the pleasure filling your body. 

It hurts.

It hurts not to see your face. Connor feels a twisting annoyance somewhere in the center of his chest from this, the impersonal angle in which he is a voyeur to your and Hank’s sexual encounter. He hates it. The man takes a little step closer, his system feeling warm and tantalized by the scene on the other side of the door–he knows the distance of a couple inches won’t make any shred of difference.

He hears your voice moaning, sobbing out Hank’s name–it sounds like a song, a blazing song of heat and wants all mixed with euphoria. For the first time, Connor dimly realizes just how hot his systems are–his internal cooling unit is having a hard time keeping his internal temperature down. But that’s not the hardest thing to deal with; system errors is all one thing of its own, easy issues he’s already familiar with, knows how to fix and move through like any recurring problem. 

There’s just something more pulling at his chest, something that Connor is damningly unfamiliar with–at least in such a level that he feels right then and there. It’s something deep and hot and hard in his belly:

 _He wants_.

He wants to see your face, he wants to feel Hank’s hands, he wants to bury himself in your heat at the same time that Hank is sliding inside him. He wants to feel gripping fingertips on his skin and the tight heat around his cock, a voice begging just as loud as his own, filling the hot air with careless abandon.

The carnal lust is new to Connor, fresh to his mind and unbridled in desire–he didn’t know how to handle it. 

It wasn’t just something he could forget or something to set aside and ignore–not when his legs felt like solid iron and he can’t find the will to move from the spot. He presses one hand to the doorframe, gulping down a stone in his throat that had to be merely perceived than an actual malfunction.

Your moans got louder as Hank started to move harder, his pattern of thrusts starting to lose rhythm.

_Close to climax._

Connor found himself breathing, heavily, as he watched the scene unfold. Seconds ticked by thick and hot as Hank’s hands gripped your hips even harder, yanking you back for the final few, hard thrusts burying himself inside of your tight heat–

And Connor heard the two of you moan.

_It’s beautiful._

There’s something to animalistic about it, watching the two of you find the end together–Connor simply couldn’t look away from it.

His mind was ablaze with thoughts, so many that he could barely filter through them, push himself through one error message after another of his overheating system. His stomach felt tense and his thirium pump was thumping so hard that he could  _hear_  it in his ears. It was nearly deafening, but it was all so worth it when he got to see that pinnacle moment of climax.

And then your face, turning from being pressed into the bed. You turned your face to the side and hummed in delight as Hank took a few extra moments inside of you. Connor could finally see the heat on your face, the delight in your smile–

The bright curiosity in your eyes when they met his.

_Fuck._

Despite it all, the gentle, afterglow-filled curiosity wasn’t replaced by shock or surprise. It lingered in your face for a moment before your eyes shifted to Hank’s.

“I think we had a bit of an audience,” Connor hears you murmur, amusement tinged on your lips. “Maybe we should invite him in now?”

“Had half a’ mind that he was going to trip through the doorway or something,” Hank chuckled in return, gently pulling out of your heat. That’s when he too finally turned to look at Connor, who was still standing in the cracked-open doorway. He looked frozen in place, a deer caught in the headlights with his wide, soft brown eyes looking from Hank to you, over and over again as he tried to come up with a response that would have been appropriate.

_But what in the world was appropriate in a situation like this?_

Connor simply watched, his lips moving but no words coming out. You settled on the bed, legs open in a motion he quickly realized was  _inviting_  of all things.

“C’mere and let us take care of you,” You cooed, curling a finger in his direction in a gentle request to come close. “Something tells me you want a bit of this action.”

It took a few moments, Connor’s face lighting up a bright blue while his LED flashed between blue and yellow, thinking. He considered it all, glanced between your and Hank’s eyes, and then took a careful step into the room.


	3. Holding You Down

> Anonymous: Connor holding the reader down (with his hands and body, not like bondage or stuff like that) while he fucks them, pretty please

Despite the fact that androids did not produce their own true body heat, Connor felt delightfully warm. It could have been due to the fact that he looked flushed (blue was such a pretty shade on his cheeks) or perhaps because he was pressed against your own, heated body. All things considered, the fact that he had been fucking you for a pretty good while was probably the biggest thing heating him up against you.

It was intimate and detached all in the same breath. His body was pressed to yours, almost chest-to-chest, and your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist and keeping both of you as close together as Connor would allow with his sharp, forceful thrusts inside you.

You could feel him all over you, overwhelming and perfect and spiraling in pleasure–but you couldn’t touch him. One of his hands forced your wrists up above your own head, his strength immense for being such a lithe man. It was horrible, terrible and absolutely perfect all at the same time.

“Connor,” you could barely muster up the energy for a moan of his name. “C-Connor…please…” It was a beg, sweet and tantalizing, but the man wouldn’t give you the mercy. He kept the hard grip on your wrists and continued his powerful thrusts, shifting the bed so that it nearly shook against the wall. 

He held you down with the weight of his body and the strength of his arms. He kept you still, taking every movement, every stroke of his cock within you, all while looking down at you with those beautiful, half-lidded brown eyes. His lips were tantalizingly close, supple and kissable and it drove you absolutely  _mad._

Of course, Connor was more than aware of this; he had planned it to be this way. 

“Do you like being held down like this?” Connor asks, though the answer was obvious. “Being helpless and needy? Your heart rate has skyrocketed since I kept you from being able to touch me–and your pupils have dilated.”

The excitement in his eyes was brewing only stronger, watching you wiggle against him, hearing you gasp his name. It was almost a drug to him, addicting in a way that he couldn’t deny or reject–you were a vision that he couldn’t live without.

“You’re so tight around me right now,” The man let out a low, erotic growl as his pace began to pick up. “So  _perfect_.”


	4. Fear of Driving Fast (SFW)

> Anonymous: Would you be willing to do a little fluffy blurb where the reader is terrified of driving/being in cars that go too fast (like faster than 60) with Connor and/or Hank?

It must have been when you tightened your fingers around his hand, or maybe it was when you felt your muscles tense or breath pause for a few moments when the car’s speed suddenly shifted. You did your best to look casual, but it was hard when you couldn’t bear to look out the window beside your head–the scenery was moving far too quickly. As the car picked up speed, the anxiety-driven tension only got worse.

Connor’s attention moved from Hank to you, though he still continued the conversation between them–something you’d long-since lost interest on when the car had hit one of the major roadways of the city. The highway was filled with cars, all falling back as Hank’s car cruised past them.

_God, it’s just too fast._

You felt fingers clutch at Connor’s hand, your eyes shut in a last-ditch attempt to force out the world from your thoughts, the feeling of movement and speed and the sight of the city whirling past the passenger-side window. 

Connor’s hand responded, gripping yours in return. His body leaned against you, a gentle pressure that made you feel a bit more stable against the back of the leather seat. 

“Maybe we should take one of the smaller roads,” Connor said after a moment. You could feel how he directed the words to Hank, who had been otherwise cut between grumbling about the ‘shitty ass drivers’ that were alongside him on the highway. “Considering the time of day, there’ll be even more cars on the highway within the next half hour–the possibility of getting caught in the end-of-day traffic is currently at-”

“I know, I know,” You could practically feel Hank rolling his eyes at Connor’s genuine words. “Most of these assholes don’t know how to drive anyway–stupid automated cars and shit…”

When you opened your eyes, you did so to find the car shifting to an exit lane, getting off the highway with little more than a series of low mumbling from Hank as he tried to work out the next-fastest way to get to the station.

You took a breath as the car slowed, down to the cruising speed of the inner-city roads, and turned briefly to look at the man sitting beside you.

Connor caught your gaze with his and offer you a little smile.

“Better?” He asked, in a voice that knew plenty well that you were already feeling a bit less stressed–your heart wasn’t hammering, your breath didn’t choke in the back of your throat. Nevertheless, you gave him a little nod, feeling his thumb rub sweetly over the back of your hand in his.


	5. Somnophilia

> Anonymous: The reader wakes up to Connor gently fucking them into the bed?

You’re not quite sure what comes first: the feeling of pleasure, or the feeling of waking up. Either could have been an acceptable answer, especially when they were so well mixed together. The warmth of sleep clung sweetly to your mind as you came to.

Through even the thickness of sleep, you could feel it–the deep, rhythmic pumping of something inside you, the firm grasp of hands over your hips that pulled you close against another’s body. As you lay on your side, you could feel that one of your legs were gently pulled back to allow for each hard, powerful thrust to hit as deep inside you as possible.

It must have been your moan that signaled your waking. The noise dripped sweetly from your lips, mingling with the soft disdain for having been awoken from such a pleasant slumber.

“You’re awake,” A voice says simply from behind you, lips nuzzling against the back of your neck. “I’m sorry–I must not have realized how hard I was fucking you.”

It takes a moment for you to realize the voice as belonging to Connor.

“Connor…” His name sounds breathless on your lips, tone stuck somewhere between heavy drowsiness and sugar-sweet pleasure. “How…long?” It’s largely for your own curiosity, if only to know if the lovely dreams you were having before were his doing.

“Half an hour,” Connor murmured, lips caressing the nape of your neck. “I saw you sleeping so peacefully and couldn’t help my desire to fuck you. You sound so  _beautiful_ when you moan in your sleep; were you dreaming of me?”

A flush of heat starts to build over your face, though you’re not quite sure if its from the android’s words or the growing tension in your belly from how his cock seems to rub over every right place within you. It makes you absolutely  _ache_  for him something fierce and deep.

“Mooore…” your whispering voice pleads. 

“Greedy thing,” Connor all but coos into your hair, his grip relentless on your body. “You’ve already orgasmed twice in your sleep–but I can’t deny how lovely you beg when you’re like this.”


	6. Thigh-fucking

> Anonymous: Connor thigh-fucking the reader?

”What’s that?” Connor’s voice is right next to your ear. “I don’t believe I heard you–what did you say?” It’s deep and dark, full of control and without an ounce of breathless abandon that you’d expect to hear from a man who was fucking you senseless. It was frustrating as much as it was exhilarating–he could keep the pace up for hours if he truly wanted, keep his hips rolling against you, his hands latched to your body, his lips and teeth leaving marks on the skin across your neck and shoulders.

“P-please-” was all you could muster of a response. “Plea–se…”

Connor’s cock moved just right between your legs–he wasn’t inside you, not yet, but the motion, the shifting of pressure and heat between your thighs was more than enough to fray your nerves raw. You wanted more, so much more, but the power that Connor held over you was too addicting to let go.

The man seemed far too calm as he listened to your short words. He traced his lips against the nape of your neck, simply soaking in the sound of your pleas and moans before he found it fit to respond with a low chuckle.

“Do you want me to be inside you?” The amusement in his tone was dripping from every word. “Your heart rate, your blood pressure–it’s all telling me that you’d barely be able to handle a few seconds of me opening you up with my cock before cumming. We need to work on your endurance.”

“C-Con-nner-” You sobbed. “More. Inside. Please.” 

You loved as much as you hated Connor in moments like this, when he made you feel so powerless, so helpless, completely put against his mercy. The android knew exactly how to wrap you around his finger, touch your body in a way that made you see stars.

His cock kept rubbing against your thighs, up against your heat. It was frustrating and delicious all at the same time.

“Not yet,” Connor cooed, one hand moving down to press one of your legs tighter against the other, tightening the space that he thrust himself into. “Let’s see how long you can last like this before we move to the next step.”


	7. First Kiss (SFW)

> Anonymous: Connor's first kiss with the reader?

The first time Connor thinks about kissing someone, it’s because he saw it on television. More specifically its because he was out with you, doing some errands in the Detroit city center, and caught a moment of something–an ad, a movie trailer, he wasn’t entirely sure–but it caught his eyes for some reason or another. He saw the couple on the screen, silhouetted by a sunset and gazing deep into one another’s eyes. 

He saw them kiss, lips pressing passionately to the other’s, sharing a tender moment that looked as warm as Connor thought it must have felt. It was like staring at something he shouldn’t–something intimate. It had only been maybe a few seconds at most, so he had quickly turned his focus back on you, his hand firmly in yours.

But the notion stuck in Connor’s thoughts. It clung to him like glue, making him remember the scene with every time his eyes glanced over your face–your lips.

What would it be like to kiss you? 

In spare moments of free time, he started to do his own research on the matter; what was kissing, anyway? Perhaps if he could understand it on a technical level, it could help him figure out all of the feelings that went through his mind whenever he thought about kissing you.

…The research didn’t really help. He already knew about hormones, already understood it was connected to sexual desire–Connor knew all those things but he wanted most was to know how it  _felt_  and why he wanted it so, so much.

There was only one true way to figure it out, Connor supposed.

So he asked you.

He asked you when the two of you were alone together–when you were sitting in the living room, when the stress of the day had already faded into obscurity, when Connor couldn’t ignore the desire that laced through his mind every single time he looked at you.

“Can I kiss you?” 

He remembered you looking at him for a moment, confusion blossoming into amusement and sweet warmth when you replied, almost breathlessly, yes.

From there it felt like he didn’t have control of himself–he leaned into you as you to him, felt his lips touch yours. It was…awkward at first. Connor had only several videos of kissing to work with as research, so he focused on trying to emulate what he had seen.

But then you reached your hands up and pressed your palms to his cheek, held him still and kissed him–he felt light-headed, his thoughts a mess as, in the moment, he felt warm.

The kiss was so simple of an action–a touch of lips of one person to another, he didn’t understand how it could be such an important concept. And yet, when he fell into the moment, felt your hand on his cheek, Connor felt his mind nearly go haywire. It was addicting, it was thrilling, it made him so–so happy–so happy that he wanted to laugh or smile or wrap his arms tight around you and never let go.

He knew at that moment what a kiss felt like–what it was like to press his lips to yours and feel your closeness for even a moment of time.

Love.

That’s what he felt right then.

He felt love.


	8. Pranks (SFW)

> Anonymous: May I request a short fluffy thing where Connor plays a prank on the reader in the fashion of [that one Bryan Dechart gif/video?](https://78.media.tumblr.com/1ad0146087f2e5aa990eefc1735887de/tumblr_p9vwxqTp4q1x8u54no3_540.gif)

“So, why do you still have that?”

The question felt a little rude–almost like asking someone why they were wearing pajamas at a convenience store, or maybe why someone was wearing long sleeves in the middle of summer. Honestly, it really wasn’t your business to ask an android about their LED, especially when that android was your not-quite-but-really romantic partner who had just recently obtained his civil freedom as a, well, a person. 

Connor at least didn’t seem perturbed by it. If anything, he looked confused, surprised for a moment, then was suddenly aware at where your eyes were looking as you sat beside him.

“Oh?” he glanced to the side, knowing very well that he wouldn’t be able to see his external LED but the gesture expressed it all the same. “What do you mean by that?”

You felt ashamed for a moment and simply shrugged.

“With what happened, I noticed some have taken them off–” you took a quick moment to make sure your words were phrased correctly, lest you make an even bigger and ruder fool of yourself. “–since, well, it was only required because of a stupid law some years ago–I mean…er…”

Connor simply tilted his head, but the gentle curve at the corners of his lips gave away his thoughts even before he spoke.

“I…did not think about it, honestly.”

He paused for a moment, silent, thinking to himself–you could see the telltale yellow whirling in the very LED on his temple.

And then, quite suddenly, Connor spoke again.

“I suppose I wouldn’t want to sacrifice any of its useful functions!” The android declared it like some important fact, and that alone caught you off-guard. His tone made you curious.

“What…kind of functions?” You thought back to what little you knew of deeper android body functions, though that knowledge was quite scant since you weren’t a worker in any of the related fields dealing with the mechanics of their anatomy. 

You stared at the LED.

“…..Can I touch it? It’s like a button right?”

Connor looked pensive, but the moment was nothing more than a flash.

“Oh, go ahead!”

Caution overtook you for a moment. Connor sounded too….chipper? His answer was quick, but you equated that simply to his blinding speed of mental processing and raised a slow hand to the side of his face.

The tip of your finger pressed gently into the center of the glowing LED circle–

And Connor suddenly, completely, went still as a stone.

“C….Connor?” 

He remained still, silent, neither blinking nor breathing for what must have been a solid minute.

“O-Oh my god,” fear suddenly filled your heart as the worst realization began to come over you. “Oh my god, oh my god Connor are you okay?”

Suddenly, the man turned his head (LED a twinkling blue) and smiled almost too widely.

“As fine as could be,” He laughed a moment as you blinked, fear still leaving you dumbstruck because you thought you  _powered off your goddamn boyfriend_. “The LED is simply an outward representation of my processing–it has absolutely no functions beyond that and certainly not anything a mere button push could cause.”

His laugh continued, sounding so warm and organic–but all you could do was take in a deep breath and try to hit his shoulder with a loose fist.

“Dammnit, Connor!” The adrenaline slowly trickled out of your system as the words left your mouth. “Don’t–don’t do that to me!”

You decided the best punishment was to flop upon him, your arms wrapping tightly around his torso in a tight bear hug. Connor didn’t reject the notion. He wrapped his arms around you in turn, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself–It’s just something that’s apart of me and I don’t have a reason to get rid of it.”

You huffed against his chest.

“That’s fair.”


End file.
